


Never Sleep Again

by Lyra_Kero



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coma, Demons, Honestly this whole thing is a WIP, Horribly Horribly Wrong, Horror, I Don't Even Know, I don't know how often I'll be able to update this, I just can't write this fandom witout throwing them together, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lance and Keith are just dancing around their feelings, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Nightmare on Elm Street AU, Overuse of italics, Sorry Not Sorry, Supernatural Elements, When Summoning Spirits Goes Wrong, Work In Progress, broganes, but it's mostly minor? Ish?, keith's in a coma, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25252930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyra_Kero/pseuds/Lyra_Kero
Summary: After Keith falls into a coma after apparently not sleeping for weeks, Lance starts to dream about him. Not the normal kind of dreams, either.Dreams that feel real. Dreams that can hurt him. Dreams that Keith is being chased by something. Scared for his life. Running for his life.But, it's just because of the other deaths on campus, right? Dreams aren't real, right? Keith isn't going to die. Right?A WIP that I have no clue what I'm doing with, but I'm proud of it, and I'm posting it.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this was sitting in my Docs for... a year? Give or take a few months. I don't know where I'm going with it, or how I'm going to get there, but it's surprisingly coming along well and coherently and I just... wanted to post it.  
> Please don't expect updates often, my brain likes to make me think I'll work on one project to completion before it gives up and demands to go somewhere else. It's why I only for sure have 2 chapters of this thing done and I'm working on the third. I work 10 - 7 five days a week, and I rarely get those two days off back-to-back.
> 
> But, again. I like this. I want to share it while my brain has decided this is the one it wants to focus on. For however long that is.

They all had been worried about Keith. He’d been groggy, irritable, the bags under his eyes had bags. And those bags had bags. And those bags were starting to get bags! He didn’t concentrate in his classes and then he just stopped showing up.  
The group had gone to Keith’s place when he didn’t answer their calls to find the boy pale, his room smelling like coffee and Insta-Buzz caffeine pill bottles were scattered around, some empty, others still full.

It was an intervention where they tried to console him, figure out why he was doing this. He only shook his head, gripping his hair as his body shook. With the death of a few other kids on campus, they figured that it was taking a toll on the poor boy’s psyche.  
Each friend took turns with Keith, Pidge first and she tried to get him to fall asleep but in the end he wouldn’t have it and the two wound up playing video games all night long. The disappointed look she got from Shiro made her wish she’d tried just a bit harder.  
Hunk was next, and he’d tried to serve Keith up some good, hearty foods that would put him into a food coma and some nice, soothing Sleepytime tea. It didn’t work and Hunk could hear him pacing around in his room and shuffling into the bathroom to relieve himself from how much tea he’d drank.  
Lance thought he was the closest. He’d spent the day with Keith, the two going to an amusement park and they marathoned every ride, starting with the slow, easy ones and escalating up to the big ones. When they’d gotten back Keith was yawning, the adrenaline from their activities dropping but after Lance got him to bed he’d wound up crashing on the couch, leaving Keith able to get back up and somehow find the energy to keep going.

Shiro had been the one who got Keith to sleep. He’d confronted the rest of the group, saying Keith had stashed away a Mr. Coffee in his room, running a secret cable to one of the outlets, as well as a few bottles of Insta-Buzz. The black haired boy looked peaceful as he slept, Shiro had said, and everyone was relieved to hear their friend would be okay.

Until they heard Keith’s screams and Shiro quickly dropped the phone. Everyone gathered around Hunk’s phone, shouting at Shiro before he told them he had to call an ambulance and hung up. By the time they’d made it to their friend’s apartment, the ambulance was already there and they saw Keith laying still in a stretcher being hauled into the vehicle.  
Keith slipped into a coma. That’s what the doctors said. The lack of sleep, the stress, all if it had put such a strain on the body that when he’d finally gotten to sleep that it was almost like his brain had pressed the reset button. Shiro had admitted to the doctors that he’d slipped some sleeping pills into Keith’s drink. He’d just wanted his brother to get some rest.

All everyone could do was wait until Keith woke up.

Lance stretched out in the warm sand, his toes curling and digging in as he cradled his head in his arms, staring up at the beautiful blue sky. Not a cloud in sight and the only sounds were the waves lapping against each other and licking up onto the beach. It was a nice, beautiful, calming day. He closed his eyes, breathing in the salt air and relaxed further, letting the waves sing him their song.  
He heard a faint noise but ignored it. Until it sounded again. And again, soon becoming constant. A splashing sound, and then a sharp cry for help. In an instant Lance was sitting up, throwing the overly-large sunglasses he’d been wearing off his face and peered out into the water, his eyes searching. He saw someone out there, splashing around, trying to keep their head above water. He quickly stood up and raced to the shore, his steps faltering when he realized who it was. He could recognize that tragedy of a hairstyle anywhere.  
“Keith!”

Keith flailed, screaming out again and Lance raced into the water, swimming out to meet him. The water became rough the closer he got and he sputtered when some of the water splashed into his face. He pushed through, the rain falling down hard, beating his skin as the grey skies roared and rolled, the waves seeming to try and keep the two apart. He wouldn’t let them, though. He wouldn’t let Mother Nature keep him from his friend.  
Keith had slipped under the waves by the time Lance reached him, and with a deep breath the Cuban boy was diving down. He opened his eyes and looked around, the ocean dark and murky. He continued to swim, trying to find any trace of the other boy. He could barely catch some movement and he pushed forward.

Keith was struggling as if he was trying to free himself from some unseen grasp. His head jerked as he fought, yanking on his legs. Lance swam closer and when Keith saw him his eyes seemed to widen, his mouth opening in surprise. The last of Keith’s air rushed out in one giant mass and the boy’s hands quickly flew to his mouth, hoping to keep himself from swallowing too much water. His eyes squeezed closed and Lance wrapped his arm around his waist, beginning to pull him back up.  
His lungs were burning. His limbs felt heavy. Keith felt heavy even in the weightless water. He could feel how tense his friend was as Lance swam to the surface. Something grazed against his leg but he kept on. It grazed again, a heavier feeling. It felt like something wrapped around his ankle but a quick shake of his leg dislodged it. Lance ignored it all as he pumped his limbs. He could feel Keith start to slacken and his heart began to race. He had to go faster.  
The surface didn’t look any closer.  
He could make it.  
Keith wasn’t moving.  
He could make it.  
His lungs felt on fire.  
He could make it.  
He needed to breathe. He _had to breathe_!  
He could _make it_.

With a loud splash, Lance took a large gulp of air as soon as he broke the surface, coughing to try and ease the burning in his chest. He looked around, the sky a deep, beautiful blue as he tugged Keith along, pulling him back towards land. He struggled, Keith’s body pressed against his chest as he kicked his legs, forcing them to keep going, getting the two on the sand before they gave out and finally dragged his friend up, pulling him far enough away from the water. 

Keith wasn’t breathing. His arms felt so sore but Lance still managed to press his ear to his friend’s chest, heard the faint, quiet thud of a heartbeat, and began to perform CPR. Compressions, _twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty_ , then tilted Keith’s head back, angling his mouth open and pinched the pale boy’s nose and breathed into him, keeping an eye on his chest to make sure the air reached his lungs. 

Lance wasn’t sure how long he did that, but he was in the middle of breathing into Keith when he felt the boy below him spasm. He wasn’t able to pull his head away fast enough and the disgusting taste of ocean water and bile hit him dead on. He hurriedly turned Keith onto his side, the boy vomiting and coughing as he tried to get the much needed air back into him, Lance spitting onto the sand to try and get the taste out of his own mouth. He rubbed at Keith’s back soothingly as the boy coughed. Keith looked around, seemingly confused, and soon saw his savior next to him.  
“Lance..?” he sounded confused, his voice rough like he’d swallowed gravel. “What are you doing here?” 

“Hello to you too,” Lance said, “you’re welcome for saving your life. I don’t ask for much. Just a parade.” he winked, expecting Keith to laugh.  
Keith only continued to stare, a mixture of confusion and shock. Soon a new emotion bled in. Fear. “Yo, Keith, buddy. You okay?” the Cuban boy frowned. 

“You’re not supposed to be here.” Keith breathed, “You’re not. You’re…” his eyes widened as he looked around. The sky was grey, growling down at them. Thick black clouds were rolling through. The water was raging, swirling and the waves were reaching their feet. Keith quickly turned his body, grabbing onto Lance’s shoulders. “Wake up!” 

“What?” Lance stared as his friend shook him.  
“Lance, please! Wake up! Wake up before it sees you!” the pale boy was trembling. “Oh fuck, it probably already knows you’re here.” He shook Lance again. “Please, wake up Lance! And don’t fall asleep again, do you understand?” 

Lance was made aware of a sharp pain in his leg. The one that had been caught in something. The waves licked at it, and he turned his head, looking down. Blood was gushing out of five long scratches, sharp and jagged like something had grabbed onto him but slipped. That hurt like hell.  
But if this was a dream and he was asleep, why did it hurt? Weren’t dreams supposed to… not hurt?  
Keith was shaking him again. “Lance, wake up!” He was crying now and as Lance turned his head, he saw a massive form behind Keith, tall and bulky with sharp yellow eyes. He couldn’t make out much more as Keith surged forward, kissing Lance full on the lips. It was desperate, and reminded Lance of those movies where someone kissed another when they thought they were going to die.  
Keith was pulled away from him, and Lance gasped as the pale boy, who was always so strong and self assured, who he had a friendly rivalry going on with, flail out and scream, hands coming out and digging long lines in the sand as he tried desperately to find something, _anything_ to latch onto. His face was streaked with sand and tears and he looked so scared.  
Keith looked so afraid and Lance found himself surging forward to try and help him. He felt his legs moving to pushing himself up and he reached out his hand. 

“ _Keith!!_ ” 

Lance’s head collided with the bunk above his bed, and he gave out a sharp cry as he dropped back down onto his pillow, grabbing his head. He heard someone moving and the bedroom door opened, Hunk looking worried as he saw his friend writhing in agony. “Did you forget about the bunk beds again?” he asked, smiling a bit as he walked over. “Let me see.”  
“Hunk,” Lance blinked, moving his hands out of the way as his friend looked over his head. It felt sore and Lance was certain there’d be a knot. “I had the weirdest dream.”  
“Weirder than the one about the vat of Jell-O and monkeys?” the larger boy asked, smirking at the memory. 

“Yes, Hunk. Weirder than that.” Lance grumbled, “I was on this beach, and… and Keith was out in the water.” His friend’s hands stilled and he saw the slight twinge in his face, “He was drowning and… and I swam out to him and I saved him! It felt so real, though. Like my chest hurt from holding my breath, and I was getting tired out and my leg got cut really bad on something and it was bleeding. And I could feel all of that. And I had to give him CPR and he almost threw up in my mouth.” Hunk’s face paled slightly, and Lance quickly went on, “But when he saw me he … he was surprised? Like he didn’t expect to see me. Then he got all panicky and was telling me to wake up.” Lance began to frown, “Then something came up behind him and… it pulled him away. But he just kept shouting at me to wake up and that… that _it already knows you’re here_. He told me to wake up and stay awake….” He looked over to his friend, whose face was pale. “Hunk, what does that mean?” 

He realized his friend wasn’t looking at him. Lance slowly lowered his gaze, following the other boy’s eyes. His bedsheets were darker. He frowned, slowly beginning to feel something… sticky. He moved his legs and winced when he felt pain burn through one of them. The one that had been cut in his dream… 

Lance sat up more and threw the covers back, kicking with his good leg. Hunk covered his mouth and backed out of the room, yelling that he was going to call the hospital. Lance could only stare in horror as five long scratches cut into his leg. Like something had grabbed onto him but slipped.  
Lance felt bile rise up his throat and was already leaning over his bed as he threw up. Keith’s voice, panicked and horrified, rang in his ears. 

_“Wake up Lance! And don’t fall asleep again!”_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance talks about his dream, before an unexpected guest appears at his door. Followed by an unwelcomed guest.

One trip to the emergency room and god knows how many stitches later, Lance was rubbing his face, groaning weakly. The small friend group had gathered in his and Hunk’s apartment, Pidge wanting to look at Lance’s stitches, but he kept smacking her hands away from them. He’d relayed what had happened to the group, telling the hospital that he’d gotten attacked by a raccoon. Honestly, he was just thankful that a prior incident involving himself, Hunk and Pidge and a run-in with a bat in the latter's basement, he didn't need another rabies shot.  
But that’s exactly what he was telling his friends.

“Lance, that’s absurd.” Allura said, frowning. “You can’t get hurt in a dream.”  
“Tell that to my leg!” Lance raised his leg up, gesturing to where his wound was. “Allura there’s literally no other way I got this! I went to bed and my leg was smooth and in one piece. I had a dream where I got scratched by who knows what and when I wake up I need like ten thousand stitches!” He huffed. “Ask Hunk! He was with me all night! I fell asleep before him!”  
“It’s true.” Hunk said, “He was exhausted after everything so he went to bed and I went after him like a couple hours later. He didn’t wake up at all.”  
“Besides that, how the hell would I have snuck out of the house, gotten my leg eviscerated, then gotten back into bed, all without leaving any blood anywhere _but_ in my bed?” He groaned, “God, my sheets will never be the same!”

“This is all just… really out there, Lance.” Shiro said, frowning. “Are you sure you didn’t just scratch yourself in the middle of the night?”  
“Shiro. One, I would have woken up if I’d scratched _that_ bad. Two,” Lance moved his hand, showing how blunt his nails were. “Allura and I got manicures the other day. No way my nails are anywhere sharp enough to do that kind of damage.”

“So, what?” Pidge frowned, slumping down into the couch. “I mean, not to sound insincere but, what are we supposed to do about this? You got scratched in a dream and your leg in the real world looks like it was mauled by a bear. Why are you telling us this?”

Lance frowned, taking a deep breath. “Because in my dream I saw Keith.” he said, slowly. “And it- it didn’t feel like a dream. He was scared a-and he said that… that _it knew I was there_.”  
“What do you mean, it?” Shiro raised an eyebrow.  
“I don’t know! But some… some _thing_! Just came up behind him and dragged him away!” the Cuban boy frowned. “Maybe it was just a really weird dream, but… it felt real. I felt tired while I was swimming out into the water to save him from drowning. I felt my chest burning for air, I-I felt how bad my leg was hurting when it got scratched. Keith acted like he’d nearly drowned and it wasn’t like some Hollywood CPR where it’s all clean, pretty and reliable. I-I was scared he was going to die until I got him breathing again. If it was just a dream I don’t think any of that would have happened.”

“Our minds are powerful things, Lance.” Shiro said, gently. “We don’t really know a lot about them.”  
“And we still don’t even know why we have dreams to begin with.” Pidge added. “Science has been all up and down trying to figure out why we have these visions in our heads while we sleep, good bad or otherwise. Why some people can lucid dream and others can't, no matter how much they try.”

“Even adding onto all of that,” Allura spoke now. “Dreams are just that, Lance. Dreams. They can mean anything.”  
“Right!” the youngest of the group nodded, “For instance, dreaming about Keith means that you miss him and desperately want to kiss him.” She grinned, expecting Lance to sputter and deny everything.

“Of course I miss him.” was instead what she got out of the lankier boy. “He was pulling away from us as a group and we find out that he’d been depriving himself of sleep on purpose, only to wind up in a coma? You’re fucking right I miss him!” He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at her.

“Lance, we all miss him.” Allura said, trying to diffuse the situation as Shiro turned his Disappointed Dad look onto Pidge, who had the mind to look guilty as she hunched her shoulders “We just have to wait until he recovers.”  
“What if he doesn’t?” Hunk asked quietly, everyone tensing at his words. “I mean, I want him to get better as much as the rest of us, but. But what if he just… never wakes up?”

Everyone fell silent at that, no one wanting to think about that. About their friend staying in a coma.  
“He has to wake up.” Lance said, finally. “He has to.”

The mood was shot after that, but everyone agreed to stay over for the night, huddled in the living room together. The group talked, a movie playing as they ate pizza. A small fight ensued when Pidge tried to steal the last slice of the pizza that Lance had called dibs on. Shiro had at some point snuck it away and ate it, himself, causing both Lance and Pidge to start smacking him with pillows.  
They’d settled after that, watching their movie before Lance stood up, asking if anyone else wanted something from the kitchen, a chorus of _no thanks_ left him to shuffle off alone, pulling open the fridge door. He looked inside, squinting his eyes for something to pop out. “Let’s see. Some soda, OJ, purple stuff…” he jumped, looking over his shoulder when there was a knock at the door. “Who the hell is knocking at this hour?”  
“Beats me.” Hunk said, Pidge piping up from where she was next to him.  
“You’re up, dude. Answer it.”

Lance rolled his eyes, closing the fridge and made his way over to the front door, peering through the peephole. He didn’t see anyone. He carefully cracked the door, looking out. “N’y-ello?” he called out.

His heart leapt into his throat when he saw, just down the hall, someone running and banging on the other doors. He sputtered and yanked the door open wider. “Keith?!”  
Keith turned around, gasping as he stumbled back over to Lance, grabbing onto his arms. “What are you doing?!” he asked, letting the other boy shove him into the apartment before Keith turned and slammed the door closed, locking it and even tugging the chain lock that he never used into place. “Hey.” Keith spun around, his eyes wide before grabbing onto either side of Lance’s face.  
“What are you doing here?” he asked, breathing heavily.  
“Uh… watching a movie with everyone?” Lance motioned his hand towards the living room, where he heard the movie still playing. He turned his head slightly. “Well, everyone _was_ there.” The large nest of blankets and pillows and the mattresses from his and Hunk’s beds were still there, the bags of chips still open and the empty pizza boxes were scattered around, but no friends. No Hunk, no Pidge. No Shiro and Allura.

Lance blinked, turning his gaze back towards Keith, who looked terrified. “Keith, what is going on?”  
“Dammit, Lance. You fell asleep!” Keith shoved the taller boy. “I told you not to!”  
“Okay, look, I can’t really control if I fall asleep or not! Don’t get pissy at me!” the Cuban pointed over at his friend, narrowing his eyes. “Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Keith groaned, running his hands through his hair, and Lance watched, his hands unconsciously moving to touch the black strands. The shorter boy tensed, but Lance continued, carefully pulling out a few grains of sand. “Keith…”  
“Lance, I--”

A loud knock sounded at the door and both boys turned, staring. Keith’s hands reached out and grabbed onto Lance’s arm. “Don’t.” he whispered. The taller boy looked over, raising an eyebrow, before looking back at the door as another knock rang out. “Lance, don’t answer the door.”  
“Why?” Lance felt his throat constrict around the question as he stared unblinking.

“Lance!” Pidge’s voice cut in, “You’re the one standing, answer the door!”  
Lance blinked, feeling confused as he stared into the fridge. He rubbed his eyes, blinking a few more times and looked around. He was in the kitchen. He could hear his friends having a conversation as the movie they were watching played on. He frowned, shutting the fridge and stepped back into the living room, his head turning towards the door.

He stepped over, peering through the peephole and grimaced. “Ugh, I’d rather not.” he muttered, jerking back as another knock sounded. He heard someone, probably Hunk, ask why, but instead he opened the door, glad that the chain lock was attached, and glared. “What do you want, Rolo?”

Rolo frowned, trying to peer inside around Lance, “Is Keith here?”  
“Why the hell would Keith be here?” The taller boy glared at the blond, who was making no move to leave.  
“Because your whole little group is here. Now where’s Keith?” Lance felt the hair on the back of his neck start to stand up as something in the back of his mind told him something was wrong.  
“He’s not here. Now get lost.” He reached out, shoving the door closed, before it was caught. Rolo had a hand on the door, keeping it from closing. “Let go.”

“Where’s Keith?” he asked again, eyes narrowed.  
“Not here you two timing snake.” Lance snapped, “Now bug off before we call the cops on you!”  
That was it. Rolo was in jail. After he and Keith had gotten into an argument, and Rolo nearly killed him, the cops had been called and Shiro had managed to pin Rolo while Lance held a towel against Keith’s bleeding side.

Rolo _couldn’t_ be here.

Two things happened at once. One of those things was Lance suddenly, clearly, hearing Keith’s voice telling him to “ _close the door!_ ” and the other was Rolo grinning, his mouth twisting and pulling wider than normal. His hand on the door tensed, squeezing as his fingers dug into the wood as the blond opened his mouth and hissed, actually fucking _hissed_!  
“A ssssnake, huh?” Rolo asked, pushing against the door, the chain lock pulling taunt and beginning to strain as the other boy pushed his head through the gap. Lance yelled, his feet pushing him backwards fast and he watched in horror as Rolo’s body slid through the too small gap, his body seeming to morph, stretch and wiggle into a serpentine shape.

That’s not right. Lance’s mind helpfully provided as he tried not to yell again. The Rolo-Snake pushed himself through completely, coiling up to keep face level with Lance. God that was freaky looking! It was still Rolo just… as a snake. Just as tall as the douchebag but skinnier, his arms and hands gnarled and twisted up closer to his chest. The Rolo-Snake hissed, a hood snapping open that filled out his face more (Lance had a flashback to Jurassic Park and the dilophosaurus scene), before he spoke again.  
“Where issss Keith?” 

“What the fuck is going on?” Lance replied, eyes wide as he took a step back. Rolo-Snake hissed, his hands twitching, bones cracking as he moved to lunge forward, mouth open wide. Lance yelped, scrambling backwards, and watched as something slammed into the creature’s head. He turned, seeing Keith wielding a broom, and saw him swing again, this time lodging the handle into the Rolo-Snake’s mouth. The thing writhed around, and Keith grabbed Lance’s hand, pulling him down the hall and into a bedroom, closing the door behind them. He scrambled around, grabbing at one of the dressers and began to pull at it.  
“Lance, help me!” he growled, snapping Lance out of his shock and managed to get to the other end, pushing it into place in front of the door. He then proceeded to help Keith pull and push and barricade the door with everything else they could find.

“Keith, what is going on?” he asked, turning to look at the other boy, watching him pace around.  
“I don’t know!” Keith bit down on his lip, his thumb rubbing against his forefinger. Lance frowned, stepping over to him. “I don’t…”  
“Keith, you’re lying.” Lance reached out and gently took Keith’s hand, stilling the motion. “Keith, please. This… this isn’t a dream, is it?”

Keith took a shaky breath. “It is… but it’s not.” Keith looked over to him. “It’s hard to explain. I don’t even know what-” the door buckled as something large slammed into it. “Lance, _wake up_.”  
“What, no!” Lance frowned, squeezing Keith’s hand. “I’m not going to leave you here with that thing!”

“Lance, I won’t let it kill you, too!” he looked over to him, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I got you dragged into this, but I’m not going to let it get you.” The room shook as the pounding on the door intensified.  
“What do you mean?” Lance looked over, hearing wood splinter. 

“Lance, just promise me that you’ll try to stay awake until I figure out how to stop this.” the black haired boy gripped Lance tightly. “Please.”  
“I… I can’t promise that. I need sleep.” the Cuban looked back to Keith.  
“Lance, please.” A piece of wood flew from the door. An arm thrust forward, hands tipped with claws.  
“I want to help you. I can’t… if this is all real, I can’t let you deal with this alone.”

The hand scratched, claws digging into the wall and pushed away everything from the door. Keith clung to Lance, swallowing thickly.  
“Lance…”  
“Keith, please let me help you. I can get the others and-”  
“No!” Keith’s eyes widened. “No, don’t get them involved!”  
“Then tell me how to help you!” Lance kept his grip tight on the shorter boy. The hand at the door was tearing it apart, a loud yell and a sickly yellow eye peering in at them.

Keith kept his gaze at the door, before turning back towards Lance. “My room.” he said, his voice hushed. “In my closet. That’s all the stuff I have.” He winced as the door continued to be destroyed. “Lance, please. Please wake up!” He squeezed Lance’s hand. “I’ll be okay. I promise. Just…”

The door seemed to explode, and Lance found himself being thrown back, his grip on Keith’s hand loosening. “Keith!”

Lance flailed, tumbling as he sat up. Four pairs of eyes turned to look at him. The movie was still playing. “Lance? Are you okay?” Allura asked, reaching for him.  
Lance blinked, panting heavily as he scrambled up to his feet. He hurried over to the closed door, noting that the chain lock wasn’t in use. As always. He ran down the hall, vaguely aware of his friends calling out after him.  
The bedroom door was intact. No scratches, everything was where it should be. He stepped over to where he and Keith had been standing, rubbing his face.  
“Lance?” he turned, looking over and saw everyone staring at him, Hunk slowly entering the room. “You good?”

“I dreamed about Keith, again.” Lance watched as his friends shared a look.  
“Lance…” Pidge frowned, but before she could continue, the taller boy cut her off.  
“He told me to go to his room, and … there’s something at his apartment.” he paced around his room, grabbing his jacket. “That thing was still chasing after him.” he took a deep breath. “He mentioned the other deaths on campus.”

The four shared another look, and Lance chose to press on. “Look, if there’s nothing in his closet then I’ll admit this is all just my imagination and I’ll drop it. But … I have to go look.” He looked towards them, pulling on his jacket. “Please guys.”

Shiro was the one who spoke, giving a soft sigh. “It won’t hurt to look. Come on, guys.”

Keith’s apartment was cold and empty. Still as messy as when they’d last been there. Papers littered the coffee table, his bag was thrown on the couch, shoes loosely thrown beside the door. Lance walked through the apartment, trying not to focus on how it felt to be so surrounded by Keith, and not having him there.  
“So, what now?” Pidge asked, tugging her puffy jacket around her. “Where did Keith tell you his secret love letter to you was?” She gave a grunt when Shiro nudged her, frowning down to her.  
“Pidge, none of that.”

Lance ignored her, for the most part. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking for, but he knew where to look. And that’s what led him into Keith’s room. The bed was a mess, possibly from Keith’s tossing and turning. The table lamp was knocked over. His phone was sitting, dead, on the side table. His closet door was wide open, clothes hanging up neatly and a few shoe boxes on the floor.

He stepped over and crouched down, beginning to look. “He said it was something in here.” he muttered, opening one of the boxes. A pair of black combat boots met him. He closed it and moved on to the next. A bunch of papers seemed promising, but all that was in that one were old sketches and photographs for his classes. He listened as the others began to look around Keith’s room. Lance bit his lip as he heard their hushed voices, talking about him.  
“He’s been taking this hard,” Shiro whispered, obviously not wanting Lance to overhear. “We just need to be supportive.”  
“What if he starts to go nuts like Keith?” Pidge asked. “I mean, he’s having these dreams, what if he just… stops wanting to sleep too?”  
“No way, Lance lives for his beauty sleep.” Hunk spoke. “I doubt he’ll be willing to sacrifice that.”

Lance had looked through all of the shoe boxes, and found nothing. The dreams were so real. Keith felt real. But… maybe it was all just his head. Stress from classes, stress from Keith’s coma, stress from the deaths…

_“I won’t let it kill you, too!”_

He looked up, about to tell the others to leave, and saw it. A note book sitting on top of the closet. He reached up and pulled it down, bringing a book with it. He turned the book around, confused at faded text that made the title too hard to understand, and opened up the notebook. Keith’s messy handwriting was all over.

_The first order of the Occult Club will be to document all strangeness going on on campus._

_I, Keith Seong, Secretary of the Occult Club, will write down all events, however benign and ~~stupid~~ unimaginable and keep them recorded to be read at every meeting._

“Keith joined that Occult Club.” Lance found himself saying out loud. Pidge gasped.  
“Without me?! That hypocrite!”  
“It doesn’t look like he took it seriously.” Lance flipped through the pages, seeing Keith’s little side notes on how dumb a few things were.

He paused as he got to a long series of blank pages and flipped back, reading the last few entries.

_Club President Rolan found a book on how to summon spirits and demons. ~~What a bunch of horseshit~~ He has decreed that once he reads over it we will try to “Summon a benign spirit”. Goody._

The date at the top was three months ago. Lance’s brain brought up the memory that the first death took place about that time.

_Something weird happened. I don’t know what. Rolan summoned something, or claims he did. Said it talked to him. He said it told us when we’d all die._  
_Weirdo. Why would he do that? Just say like the ghost told us we’d all get rich or some shit, way to be depressing._

_Rolan died. Just when he said he would. He told all of us when we’d die. Sam is sobbing, her name was next._

_Sam said she’s been having bad dreams. Amanda offered to sleep with her._

_Something fucked is going on. Sam died and Amanda says that before she died she was screaming out in her dreams.. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I think Rolan didn’t summon a benign spirit. I found the book he’d been reading. I’m going to see if I can figure out what the hell is going on before anyone else dies._

_tobi and i are the only ones left_

_I can't fall asleep._

Lance felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He looked back at the book and opened it. The pages fell easily, revealing a page detailing how to summon a spirit said to help with dreams and nightmares.

“Lance? Lance!” He jumped, slamming the book closed and turned around. His friends were staring worriedly. “You alright? We’ve been saying your name for a while.”  
“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m alright.”  
“Did you find anything?” Allura asked, obviously eying the two books in his hands.

Lance fidgeted, shrugging. “Nothing really important.”

“You seemed pretty interested in it, for something not important.” Pidge raised an eyebrow and smirked. Lance pouted, glaring down at her.  
“Let’s just go.” Lance kept both books close as he left the bedroom.  
“What, Lance!” the short girl glared, hurrying over to him. “You dragged us all the way over here and now you’re just going to tell us to leave and not tell us what you found?”  
Lance looked down to the books, Keith’s words echoing in his head, _“Don’t get them involved.”_  
He didn’t know what to do, though. 

He looked over to the others, his friends. Keith’s friends. Friends who all banded together to help Keith when he was pulling away. Friends who helped each other when they were in trouble.

And right now, Keith needed help. Help that Lance didn’t think he could do alone.  
He swallowed thickly, looking down at the books in his hands, and silently apologized to Keith.

“Guys, I think Keith needs our help.” he turned, facing the other four fully. “And… I think he might die if we don’t figure out how to help him.”


End file.
